


Costume Redesign

by emma98



Category: Avengers, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, darcy is bored so she redesigns all of the costumes, post civil war spoilers, steve is a smitten kitten, we all need to see Steve in the Nomad outfit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:58:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma98/pseuds/emma98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holed up at the Barton Farm for Semi-Retired Super Heroes, Darcy defends her chickens from ravenous parties, completely enraptures Steve Rogers, and decides to design the team new costumes.  </p>
<p>She comes up with some pretty interesting ideas.</p>
<p>*because of Nomad.  And the deep V to end all deep V's.<br/>** also because of Sam Wilson's outfits in the past have been pretty---interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Costume Redesign

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a laugh tonight. And I saw some bit about the Russos and McFeely talking about Chris Evans getting fitted for the Nomad costume.
> 
> DARE TO DREAM IT AND BELIEVE THAT COULD HAPPEN.

 

**Costume Redesign**

 

“That’s….ridiculous, Darcy.  No way.”

 

“That’s  _ awesome _ , Darcy.  Yes way.”

 

Clint glared at Laura and she merely grinned at him and shrugged.  And then once Nathaniel had gotten off her lap and toddled away, she gave Clint the middle finger.  Clint narrowed his eyes even more and looked back at the sketches Darcy had been drawing.

 

“There’s no way he’s going to take you seriously, Darcy.  I mean, for Christ’s sake, you have a cape on that one!” Clint sighed at the ‘costume designs’ Darcy had busied herself with since she was finished with her daily Barton farm chores (mainly consisting of feeding and naming the chickens.  Also viciously defending said chickens any time anyone wanted to eat one of them).

 

“Thor has a cape, it’s totally awesome,” Darcy wrinkled her nose and put one of her colored pencils to her lips thoughtfully.  “What if it has a practicality to it?  Like...when the wind hits it, it can turn into a hang glider?  That’d be helpful.  I mean, he jumps out of stuff a lot.  It might be good to have a backup plan just in case Big Bird isn’t there to catch him.”

 

Darcy had been residing at the Barton Farm for three months now.  Jane was in Asgard with Thor, researching deadly and dastardly schemes of space super villains.  Darcy had been put back on Earth by a very awesome Heimdall in order to protect it from harm.  Also, because Odin had wanted her safe.  Odin used to be a dick, but now he was just a weirdo who greatly enjoyed Jane and Darcy’s company, so Darcy wasn’t going to complain about that even a little bit.  

 

And he’d gifted her with a wicked magic stick that caused a temporal disturbance when used properly.  Darcy mostly used it to catch unsuspecting superheroes unawares and knock them on their behinds.  

 

The Barton farm was a sort of safe haven for superheroes now.  A Bed and Breakfast for previously captive good guys.  A port in the storm for any and all members of Team Cap.  

 

After Bucky checked himself back into a comfier freezer, Steve Rogers had broken his team out of the underwater Raft, with a little assist from Natasha.  They’d then gone straight to the Barton farm and had been using it as a homebase ever since.  And just because they didn’t have fancy Stark-built shields or fancy Stark-built wings or fancy fat Stark bank accounts and budgets didn’t mean that any of the released heroes wanted to stop hero-ing.

 

They’d been at it for a few weeks now, and Darcy had decided that in order not to die of boredom eight times in a day, she was going to make them new costumes.  Because Steve wasn’t really Captain America anymore.  And Sam was a whole new vigilante Falcon.  And Wanda was even more badass-ier than she was before.

 

Scott had already vetoed her suggestion of making the suit tarnished gold and pale pink via a text message that consisted of one hundred little piles of emoji poop.  Wanda had given her and the sketch of a cool new jacket with extra long sleeves that turned into fingerless gloves a vaguely positive shrug that morning when she had tried to take one of Darcy’s darling chickens to cook (she had failed but only because she wasn’t allowed to woosh Darcy off her feet with any witchy woman powers).  

 

“You liked the purple leather outfit idea,” Darcy reminded Clint.

 

“You did see what he wore to our wedding, didn’t you?” Laura snorted.  “He’s got sharp eyes for everything---except clothing.”

 

“White tuxedos and baby blue cumberbunds are a classic combination,” Clint muttered.

 

“I mean, I like the designs, Darcy, I do.  I really do,” Laura nodded enthusiastically.  She looked down at Darcy’s semi decent sketches of Sam, Steve and Bucky in the new outfits.  “I mean---really.  Very good work.  A+++, and technically, those count, because I’m home school certified.  The attention to the important details is just---”

 

“Really? This is how the divorce starts?” Clint wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her out of her chair into his lap.  He put his lips against her neck and said, “Stop coveting my teammates right in front of me.”

 

“Stop having covet-able teammates,” Laura suggested.  “You’ve waxed poetical about Steve’s barn width shoulders and geisha waist before.”

 

“I’m human, babe.”

 

“Anyway, good job at your initial designs, but honey, sweetie, Darcy-babe, there’s no way you’re going to get Captain America to sign off on those uniform designs,” Laura gave her a sympathetic little smile.

 

“Well it’s a good thing he’s not Captain America anymore,” Darcy smugly smiled.  She held up one of the designs and gestured to it, Vanna White style, “He’s  _ Nomad!  The Man Without a Country!” _

 

“Or an American Flag onesie,” Clint smirked.

 

“I just want to prepare you for the inevitable rejection here,” Laura sighed.

 

“She won’t be rejected,” Natasha said breezily as she walked into the kitchen and went to the fridge and took out the gallon of milk and the container of chocolate syrup.  Like she owned the place and hadn’t been out of town for the last three weeks at all.

 

“Nat, look at the uniform designs!” Clint rolled his eyes.  “Look at them.”

 

“Ten bucks says he doesn’t outright reject them,” Natasha countered as she opened the jug of milk and began squirting the entirety of the chocolate syrup bottle into it.  “As a matter of fact, Darcy, take off Wilson’s sleeves. Put Barnes in tights.  And make Steve’s neckline lower.  Really low.  Like...below the navel low.”

 

“Yaaaaaaaaaaas,” Darcy went immediately to work.

 

“Where is everyone else?” Clint wondered as Natasha made sure to shake the chocolate syrup bottle, which had previously been three-quarters of the way full, so that she could get every last drop into the gallon of milk.

 

“Storing the jet,” Natasha shrugged before capping the milk gallon again and shaking it vigorously and continuously.  

 

“Remind me to get more milk and chocolate syrup,” Laura sighed.

 

“We need a supply run?” Sam wondered as he walked into the kitchen, followed by Steve.  “You could have texted us, Mama Barton, we’d have stopped on the way home.”

 

“Yeah, in the quinjet parking at the Piggly Wiggly,” Clint joked.

 

“I could take the truck,” Steve offered as he walked into the kitchen and sat himself down right next to Darcy.  His hand went to rub at the beard on his face and he looked to Darcy, who was hunched over her sketches protectively as she quickly drew.  “You want to get out of here for a little while, Darce?”

 

“Hmmm? Sure, yeah, inna minute,” Darcy nodded, her tongue peeking between her lips, a little line appearing between her brows as she concentrated on her work.

 

“What are you working on?” Steve wondered, trying to get a glimpse.

 

Darcy reached out with her right hand as her left still scribbled, placing her palm flat against Steve’s nose and letting the rest of her hand lay on his face.  Steve giggled.

 

He  _ giggled _ .

 

“Fuck,” Clint whispered, jostling Laura on his lap and going for his wallet.  Clearly he had missed out on something developing when he had done that security job for Fury the prior week.  He handed Natasha the ten, making a ridiculous grumpy cat face as Natasha smiled at him, then continued to drink her chocolate milk straight from the gallon.

 

Because Clint had  _ known _ that Steve liked Darcy a little.  Or a lot.  He’d known, and it hadn’t been because Laura had told him.  She told him, but he’d suspected before that.  Steve and Sharon had ended their little dalliance amicably a few weeks after the big dustup and right before Darcy had appeared in a blast of rainbow light.  

 

Steve and Darcy had been properly introduced.  Well Steve had said a polite _Nice to meet you, ma’am_. And Darcy had let out a long vowel sound and then a _hot damn_ _what is my life right now?_  They’d bonded over a mutual appreciation for Cookie Crisp cereal and a shared plot to have Nathaniel always near Sam whenever a dirty diaper was happening.  

 

Steve  had been following Darcy around the farm like an eager to please puppy.  He’d also refused to kill her chickens when Sam and Wanda had demanded farm fresh poultry.  And he’d watched Dawson’s Creek with her on Hulu over the course of two weeks (only marathoning the ‘good’ Pacey+Joey episodes).  

 

So yes, Clint had an idea that Steve liked Darcy.  And Darcy seemed mostly clueless as to his intentions, but clearly very much liked Steve too.  And now she was going to give him the most ridiculous uniform of all time and Steve would probably, stupidly, foolishly say  _ okay _ ..

 

“So, Steve?” Darcy finally stopped drawing and looked up at Steve with a big, excited grin.  “You know how you were complaining before your last mission that it was weird to go out in civilian clothes, and that you didn’t want to be a walking, talking flag wearing dude anymore, but you missed having a uniform?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Steve nodded, smiling down at her fondly.  

 

“I designed you guys new uniforms!” Darcy said excitedly before revealing the latest sketch.  

 

“Oh hell no,” Sam muttered.

 

“Wow,” Steve’s eyes widened.  

 

“I am not wearing that,” Sam said emphatically.  He pointed a finger at Steve, “Don’t do this to me, Rogers.  I’m not wearing that.”

 

Sam’s sketch was him in a very flattering red and white number.  Sleeveless.  Flared Pants.  Low cut.  Skin tight.  And he had a bright yellow futuristic visor on his face.  

 

“I will be willing to pay money I do not have to see Barnes in that though,” Sam amended.

 

Bucky’s sketch had him in red tights.  A domino mask.  And what could only be described as a very, very, very form fitting blue leotard layered over the red tights.

 

“It’s tight so he can move better, like a ballerina,” Darcy explained.  “Natasha said that’s the only reason she doesn’t wear a burlap sack in the field.” 

 

“Uhm,” Steve’s lips pursed slightly as he focused on the outfit she had drawn him in.

 

There was a yellow cape. And tight blue fabric drawn onto cartoon him.  And while his lower half was fully swathed in pants, the top half was...not.  It was essentially two strips of fabric that covered the cartoons nipples and came down his torso in a v.  

 

“What’s written under there?” Steve deflected for a second.  Darcy had been looking at him with mirthful hope, and he knew she was pulling his leg, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, even if it was only hurting her pretend feelings.  

 

“Nomad.  You need a new code name,” Darcy nodded.  “You’re a wandering defender of the Earth who ain’t got the time to answer to no other man.  Or woman.”

 

“One woman,” Natasha mumbled, blindly high fiving the hand that Laura held up to her.  

 

“ _ Nomad _ .  I like it,” Steve’s smile was slow, but eventually reached blinding status.  

 

“And the costume?” Darcy wondered hopefully.  

 

“Well, we can collaborate on it, on our trip to the store together,” Steve suggested.  

 

“Smooth,” Sam coughed.

 

“But I can tell you right now, I’ll give you whatever money you need to get Bucky’s costume made up,” Steve nodded.  “We’ll have it waiting for him when he wakes up.”

 

“ _ Awesome _ !” Darcy sing-songed.  “OH, wait till you see what I have for Thor.  You’re going to love it.”

  
  

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaaaaand now I'm giggling. I needed that. Thanks for letting me be silly and thanks for reading!


End file.
